


Show and Tell

by Fabwords



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:24:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabwords/pseuds/Fabwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has something he really wants to show his flatmate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show and Tell

It was quite in 221B, Sherlock was tinkering with an experiment in the kitchen and John had just finished his bath. “Sherlock.” John called down from his room. The consulting detective either ignoring him or not heard him, failed to respond. “Oh Sherlock.” He called again, a little louder.

The tink of something tapping against glass the only answer. “SHERLOCK!” His companion shouted. 

From the kitchen Sherlock continues his study of a bowl of eyeballs and calls back distractedly. “Oh what is it Watson, I’m quite busy.”

“But I have something for you.” The ex-solder whines.

“John, this experiment is at its critical juncture, so unless you inexplicably have a dead body up there I’m sure that whatever it is can wait.” Sherlock sighed at the interruption.

Five minutes later a rather stroppy John storms down the stairs, snapping a terse “I’m off to the pub,” as he heads out the door. 

Fifteen minutes after that, Sherlock suddenly looks up from his experiment looks of surprise, interest and then horror follow each other across his face, in an instant he is up, into his coat and running out the door.

Even if Sherlock didn’t have tracking software installed into his Iphone, a precaution the detective had taken after John’s kidnapping, he would have no trouble finding his friend. There were many things about John Watson that completely puzzled Sherlock, but his go-to –place for when Sherlock upset him was as predictable as the rising of the sun.

“So what did Sherlock do to upset you this time?” Detective Lestrade had asked as he pulled up a stool beside John, singling for the bar keep.

“What makes you think I’m upset,” John asked, a little affronted that Greg would assume such a thing.

Greg just smirked and shook his head. “Just a wild guess John.” 

“Not everything in my life is about him you know.” John huffed. The detective didn’t respond, simply paid for the drinks and tapped his glass lightly against John’s. 

“Well, here’s to nothing then.” Greg toast.

Two scotches and three beers later found the two men cheering at a footy game playing on the small screen above the bar, laughing and patting each other on the back with each impressive pass. Suddenly Lestrade put a little distance between them and mumbled about it being time to go.

“What? Come on mate you can’t go right in the middle of a match, even if it is just a re-play.” John protested.

“It’s not me that’s going mate, it’s you.” The detective grinned as he waggled his eyebrows towards the door. John slowly turned around to see Sherlock marching towards them, his coat billowing out behind him, he eyes fixed firmly on John.

John could have ignored Sherlock, but as usual it was just easier to go with him. They said nothing on to cab ride back, made no comment as they trekked up the stairs to the flat. John made a bee line to his room, Sherlock returned to his experiments.

Neither man could really ignore the other for long though. John was the first to break, returning to the lounge room dressed in his sleep pants and white tee shirt. “Why did you come and collect me if you didn’t want to talk?”

“You are the one who wanted my attention John.” Sherlock reminded him calmly.

John scoffed, muttering about not being deemed worthy of his attention. Sherlock sighed, turning to face the Doctor. “I’m sorry John, I didn’t realise that you wanted my attention, in a sexual way.” 

“What!” John spluttered, his face blushing alarmingly. “What gave you that idea?”

Sherlock took a step toward, appraising his flatmate. “After you left I considered what had transpired, the fact that you had taken an unusually long shower and the nervous tremor in your voice when you called me, it was clear to me that you had preened in order to gain my interest. Judging by the slight change in your gait and the way you were shifting on that bar stool, I assume that you shaved your genital area.” 

John wanted to deny it, scoff at the ridiculousness of it all but the alcohol he had consumed and the sexual tension that had been brewing over the past few weeks finally took its toll, he gave in to the truth. “Do you realise how difficult it is to shave the crack of your own arse?” He yelled. 

“No John I do not.” Sherlock’s lips twitched, knowing that laughing at this point of the procedure would be somewhat not-good.

“Well it is bloody awkward, and I think I may have nicked something back there.” The Doctor pouted briefly but then his lips twitch in amusement. Sherlock couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing, even John’s face turning red with embarrassment couldn’t stop it, in fact it actually made him laugh more. It wasn’t long before John lost it, laughing along with his mad flatmate. 

John wasn’t sure how, one minute they were laughing and staring fondly at each other, the next minute he was pinned against the nearest wall, Sherlock’s body pressed against him, a leg bent so that his knee was firmly pressed up to the smaller mans cock and balls. 

The laughter stopped, John swallowed nervously, eliciting a predatory leer from Sherlock as he suddenly pressed his hot tongue against John’s throat, groaning softly as Sherlock’s teeth and lips pressed in, sucking lightly at the flesh.

The taller man pulled back slightly to study the mark and admire the look of pleasure on John’s face. “Show me what you have done Doctor.” Sherlock ordered, his breath hot against John’s ear. John blushed but nodded as he fumbled with the cord of his pyjama bottoms. Sherlock took a small step backwards as they fell in a puddle around his feet. He looked up shyly at the detective, waiting. “All of it John.”

The doctor sighed as he pushed his boxers down. Sherlock took his hands then, gently walking backwards, guiding the doctor forward, helping him to step out of the pile of clothes on the floor. John stood still as Sherlock looked him over, the tip of his cock and the swell of his hairless balls peeking out from beneath the white sleep shirt he was wearing.

Sherlock ran his open palms down the sides of the man in front of him until he met the edge of the tee shirt, grabbing it firmly he yanked it up and off of the doctor, leaving him completely naked, bearing all just for Sherlock.

The detective hummed in appreciation as he dropped to his knees and planted a kiss on the tip of John’s semi-hard cock, his hand gently cupping the smooth hairless skin of John’s balls. “Very nice John,” Sherlock stood and kissed John’s lips lightly. “Where else should I look I wonder.”

John whimpered in reply as Sherlock walked around the smaller man, trailing a finger across his chest, arm and back before stopping. John felt the warm open palm press between his shoulder blades while the other arm slid across his hips. Suddenly Sherlock pushed at his back, folding the Doctor over his arm, exposing his arse. Sherlock sucked in a sharp breath at the sight before him. John’s virgin arse, exposed, waiting, wanting. “You know my dear Watson, I always expected that you would be hiding a spectacular arse under those baggy trousers you wear.” 

John shuddered as the detective lowered himself to his knees again, this time pressing his open palms over the cheeks of John’s arse, easing them apart then running his hot wet tongue over his hole. John gasped in shock at the sensation, as Sherlock continued to lick and nip at the area. “Sherlock … Sher … stop.” John panted.

“Why John, is this not pleasurable?” Sherlock asked his breath hot over John’s now sensitive anus. 

“No .. I mean yes … feels so good … but we should talk … uhhh” John groaned as Sherlock slipped a finger into the spit slicked hole, curling it to graze over John’s prostrate. “Oh God.”

“Do you really want to talk John?” Sherlock asks as his tongue dives in next to his finger.

“Sherlock, this is wrong, please.” John pleaded even as he pushes his arse back into that wicked finger and tongue. 

Sherlock moved away, leaving John empty and desperate. “If you want me to stop then say so now John.” This was so awkward; John naked, bent forward exposing his arse, as far as he could tell Sherlock was still fully dressed. “I just don’t want to lose you.” John admitted. 

Suddenly John found himself turned around and in Sherlock’s arms as the detective held him close and whispered in his ear. “You will never get rid of me John Watson, if we continue on as friends or move forward as lovers, I will remain forever yours.”

“Really?” John could hardly breathe. “Do you really mean that?”

“I have never lied to you.” Sherlock scoffed. John pulled back to look up at his flatmate his eyebrows up in question. “Not about anything important anyway.” He clarified.

“What if things don’t work out between us?” John whispered, his face buried against Sherlock’s chest. “I don’t really know what I would do without you.”

“That’s quite all right my dear Watson, we are London’s most brilliant team, and together we can solve any problem.” Sherlock stated, is his most pompous voice.

“We’re brilliant?” John smirked.

“Well of course mostly me, but you have your uses.” The detective purred giving the doctor’s arse a firm squeeze. John rolled his eyes as Sherlock chuckled quietly. “Now John can we get back to the task at hand? I believe I was studying your spectacular arse.”

“Well by all means my love, I would never try and stop the most brilliant detective in the world from completing his task.” John laughed.

“Consulting detective.” Sherlock corrected stepping in behind him and matching him towards his bedroom. “Do get it right.”


End file.
